Balance of Power
by realfanficts
Summary: In a world ripped apart by a savage war of conquest, the Titans and friends must do all they can to prevent total domination of the human race by an inhuman enemy who has turned one of their own. An Allies and Enemies story. Parallel to Kiss of the Dragon
1. First Strike

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any famous characters you will recognize. They are the property of DC comics and an assortment of other people. I do not own the overall timeline for this story, as it is a parallel to ThSamurai's _Kiss of the Dragon_. I do, however, own the subplots, my other character Elm, and anyone associated exclusively with his background.

The situation at the chemical plant is based off events in** koriandr Star**'s_Third Gospel of the Dead II: The Art of Revenge_, so don't blame me for any of it you don't like.

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**Chapter 1: First Strike**

I shot up in my bed, gasping with a pain that wasn't mine. It took me a moment to orient myself, to calm down and remember I was in Titan's Tower, and that, indeed, I was not wounded. Oh, the agony was real, all right, but not from any injury of mine. You see, one of my gifts is empathy, and with certain individuals who have the same or similar gifts of the mind, I also have a long-range telepathic connection. And presently, one of those individuals was in some kind of horrible pain. Whether it was physical or mental, I could not tell…

_'Raven? Is that you?'_

_'Huh, what? Elm?'_ No, not her. As I apologized for waking her, I opened my window and looked out on the bright, full moon; certainly enough light for me to see all the way to the ground.

_'Lee?'_ I donned my cloak and picked up my staff, at the same time calling to the only other person I knew was in the area. _'Lee? Are you all right?'_

At first I got no answer from the samurai, but just as I was about to call again, I heard his voice in my mind. _'Elm? Made a—terrible mistake. Please, tell—'_

He stopped, and there was a spike in the pain just as I teleported to the foot of the tower. I doubled over and nearly lost my dinner from the force of the feeling.

_'Lee? Lee!'_ I bit my lip worriedly when there was no answer. Blood trickled from the pierced skin, but it was negligible. _'Hold on! I'm going to find you. Just hold on.'_ I continued to try and reassure him as I oriented on his mental signature. It didn't take long, and soon I was on my way.

I was getting close when all hell (and I most certainly don't use that word lightly) broke loose.

It came in the form of a nearly blinding flash, accompanied by deafening crash of sound not unlike thunder. I blinked several times to clear the bright lights dancing in front of my eyes, and shook my head in an attempt to put an end to the sound of many clashing, clanging bells.

I was less than successful, as another blast hit soon after the first, and another…and another. They just kept coming, one after the other, like an unceasing assault on my senses. I did, however, have the presence of mind to shield my eyes with my hood, and do my best to plug my ears. At least they weren't all as nearby as that first one, so I could develop a slight tolerance, enough to continue my mission—by maintaining the telepathic link, which depended on neither vision nor hearing, I could still walk in the direction of Lee's mind.

In this manner I came to a pair of gates set into a solid steel fence that surrounded a closed chemical plant. Though the gates were of the same metal as the fencing on either side, they were ripped apart like so much yarn attacked by scissors. I shuddered to think what force could cause such devastation, but it wasn't the worst thing that awaited me.

No, that was the bodies, scattered across the pavement. This time I actually did lose my last meal, rather violently. What was left of the workers probably shouldn't be called bodies; all but one of them were ripped to shreds. And that one wasn't much better off. It was laying up against a concrete wall, red liquid trickling out from between closed lips. The man, whoever he had been, was pale, probably from loss of blood. From what I could see, most of that had run down from some unseen wound in his back, and the more obvious stab wound in the belly.

I stood there, bent over slightly with my hands on my knees, recovering from the sight. When I stopped shaking, and my stomach finally stopped protesting, I stood back up. With one last glance around me, I made to move past the body, past the wall and toward the management facility that somewhere inside contained my friend. But some movement caught the corner of my eye, and I whirled to face what I had thought to be a dead body.

The movement that had caught my attention was one arm. Trembling all over with the effort, the man lifted it up a few inches above the pavement and beckoned with one finger, then let it collapse, having apparently exhausted his remaining reserves with that one motion. Still, appearances could be deceiving; by all rights this man should have been dead long ago, yet was not. Something was very wrong. Warily I stepped closer, gripping my weapon tightly. The sense of wrongness increased, and it had nothing to do with the pain I felt emanating from Lee or this man. It did, however, have something to do with this man.

When I was about five feet away, he opened his mouth, presumably in an attempt to speak—and that's when I saw the fangs. That stopped me dead in my tracks, and I heard nothing of what he had to say. But there was no need for words. I now knew what was wrong.

"Vampire!" I hissed. "So you've been behind all those killings these past weeks. It wasn't Slade at all."

"Thlade?" he spoke with a lisp, and a moment later I could see the cause of the problem. Part of his tongue had been bitten off. "Thlade?" he repeated, managing to look incredulous. Then without warning, he laughed, startling me. "No, whatever other admirable traitth he may have, "Thlade doethn't have the thtomache for math killingth. Thuch a pity. Were it not for that, he could have been a remarkable predator." He grinned, an expression that sent chills down my spine. But I stood fast. It wasn't like I didn't know how to deal with one of these creatures.

"Some predator you are, lying there helpless. Looks like you literally bit off more than you could chew." His smile faltered, twisting into a snarl.

"Come here and I'll thow you who'th helpleth!" He attempted to propel himself to his feet, but collapsed limply back to the wall, sliding down the vertical concrete and leaving a trail of blood. His head lolled to one side, twisting far farther than it should have been able to go, the trickle of blood from his mouth increased to a steady stream, and he lay still. Moments later he burst into flame, and I moved on before his ashes had a chance to settle to the ground.

Unerringly, my sense led me through the open doors of the main facility, past room after empty room, down several flights of stairs, through a number of hallways. One storage room I passed showed signs of some kind of struggle, with a dent in one wall revealing that someone had been slammed into it, hard. There was even a small bloodstain on the floor, and it trailed out into the hall I'd entered from.

Opposite that hallway, there was another door, this one revealing the last set of stairs, leading down to the lowest level more than forty feet below.

That last level didn't have much; odd bits and pieces of discarded machinery and pipes littered the floor. But those weren't what interested me. No, what interested me was the bloodstained mess that happened to be my friend, lying in the middle of a small crater of cracked and broken cement.

"Lee?" I rushed to his side, hurriedly checking his body for wounds. His body seemed to be a mass of bruises and abrasions, and there was a deep gouge in his left shoulder, but it seemed that the suit of Kevlar armor had prevented anything more serious. "Lee, can you hear me?"

He nodded once without speaking. "Well, you're bloodied and bruised, and you have a nasty wound in your left shoulder, but you don't seem to have anything broken." As I spoke, I ripped off a strip of fabric from my jeans. In the absence of regular bandages, that would have to serve to stem the flow of blood from his shoulder. I also changed the subject, having nothing more to say on the current one. "Now, we've go to get out of here. Do you think you can stand with my help?" He nodded again. "Good." I slid my arm under him as gently as I could. Even so, he winced as I made contact with several bruises, but didn't cry out. His samurai training had probably taught him how to deal with pain like this.

I teleported us to the top of the stairs and helped him stagger through the open door, beginning to retrace my path. As we walked through the first room, I saw the bloodstain again. I frowned as I followed it out the door. "What happened here, my friend?"

As tried to answer, he stumbled, but I held onto him. He tried again, this time telepathically. _'A vampire named Isard Triton, and her minions. I fought a human girl in that room, and another vampire outside.'_ Ah, so what had happened to that vampire had been Lee's handiwork. _'She's taken control of the Justice League's Watchtower, and is using it to initiate a worldwide strike.'_

That news hit me over the head like a sledgehammer, and I froze at the base of another stairway.

I stood there, speechless and moving, with only one thought running around in my mind, over and over— 'Heaven help us!'

If only we'd known. That wasn't the half of it. This attack was only the first strike in a vicious, savage campaign that would forever change the face of Planet Earth…


	2. Second Race

**A/N: **Whew! That's finally finished! Sorry it took so long, Tsukikage, but here it is; the second installment of this would-be epic At least it didn't take as long as my last update, eh?

I can only hope it will live up to the story that inspired it. Speaking of which, this chapter was taken from Chapter 11 of _Kiss of the Dragon_, but enlivened a little, told from a different perspective, and extended slightly. As I stated before, this is a parallel to that story, though it will cover many events the original merely alluded to, and some that are not even mentioned.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Teen Titans, nor did I create the character of Reynard. That honor goes to ThSamurai, in the story mentioned above.

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**Chapter Two: The Second Race**

I am Reynard. I am a Lycon, or as the mortals prefer to call us, a werewolf. I am the last surviving direct descendant of Fenrir, the father of our race.

And when I say I'm a direct descendant, I mean I was never bitten, but instead born naturally. What few people realize is that while we can convert a mortal through the medium of a bite or scratch (something we share with our thrice-damned eternal foes, the Vampires), it's not something we _have_ to do. We also retain our ability to reproduce through mating.

And it's a good thing we can. If not for that, we would have died out nearly a decade ago, when losing one final battle with our ancient enemy forced us underground. We were unable to surface and replenish our numbers—those who tried to do so never came back.

Since then, we have had to remain in hiding to preserve our existence, though every so often, the odd assassin or two managed to locate our new residence. We managed to ensure that none of them ever resurfaced to tell anyone else of their discovery.

All of which added up to convince me that the pair of mortals who had stumbled upon our domain were nothing other than two more enemies who needed to be disposed of.

But it wasn't easy, as it turned out. They managed to evade the sentries for several hours, even knocking one unconscious. Not bad, for mortals. It was a shame they worked with those fiends—they would have made great additions to the pack.

When I received notice that they had finally been captured, I had them brought to my home. I was going to deal with them personally—after I took care of a dispute between two pack members.

When I got back home, I paused for a moment just outside the door, peering in from the shadows that hid me from their view, if they cared to turn around and look. They were seated in the public portion of my dwelling, not too comfortable in the straight-backed wooden chairs facing my desk. The male had green skin and hair, while the female was in a dark, nearly black cloak. Her shoulder-length hair was similar in color, and though I couldn't put my finger on what made me think so, there seemed to be something slightly otherworldly about it. The same could be said of her scent. It wasn't entirely—human.

He forced a laugh and commented sarcastically to her, "Boy, this wasn't how I pictured my weekend turning out." She didn't demean herself with any kind of response, and he held up his hands as if to ward off a blow.

I saw I needed to intervene before I had only one prisoner to interrogate, and strode through the doorway with a confident stride, sitting in one of the few comforts any of us had—a padded chair situated behind the desk.

When I introduced myself, the female ventured a meaningless pleasantry. It was faint, to the point where most mortals would have barely been able to hear it. Good, she was intimidated already. That would make this whole ordeal easier. I decided to get right to the point.

"So, who sent you?" I demanded. There, a perfectly straightforward question. Evidently, though, they weren't going to comply that easily, deciding to play the fools. After an exchange of glances at each other that seemed to indicate they were confused, the male turned back to me and gave me a puzzled frown. I absently noted his eyes were the same color as the rest of him. "What?" he replied, and I sighed internally. Did I have to spell it out for them? We all knew what I was talking about. I listed several members of the Nocturna Council, watching carefully for any signs of recognition with each name. But they gave nothing away, refusing to respond. I felt my patience beginning to trickle away. "Speak," I ordered, staring at them with a grin that was not at all friendly, one full of fangs. It didn't do any good; they still said nothing.

Well, in that case, they were of no further use to me. I turned to one of the guards, and was halfway through giving the order to have them executed, when the female spoke up with a protest, claiming they weren't assassins or spies. "We're Teen Titans."

Ah, finally, a statement instead of a question. Her scent didn't change, though, indicating no falsehood. Interesting. Well, even if they weren't Vampire familiars, that still left another question.

"What's a Teen Titan?"

The male finally decided it was time to interject with another sarcastic comment. "Dude, you really have been living under one giant rock, haven't you?" Not amused, I narrowed my eyes, but he went on, blithely unaware of the meaning behind a Lycon's stare. "We protect the city that's being burnt to a crisp right now." He leaned back in the chair, having delivered his piece. He winced slightly as his spine contacted the unyielding wood.

Before I could stop myself, the question escaped my mouth. "The city's being destroyed?" So that was what the constant rumbling was all about.

"Why else would we come down here?" the female replied, rather sharply, and met my stare with one of her own.

I watched as the male leaned over and whispered in her ear, trying to pitch his voice low enough to prevent my hearing it. He failed, not realizing a Lycon's hearing was superior to a mortal's.

"See, Raven, right now he's thinking 'now that I think about it…that rumbling noise wasn't my drier acting up.'"

That was enough of that! I nodded to one of the guards, who grinned. He gave the male a good rap on the back of the head. The owner protested loudly that he sometimes used that head. Not that he'd shown any evidence of using it since he got here…

I cut his protest short, ordering him to hold his tongue, then directed my attention once more to the female. "Raven," as the male had called her. "No more titles. Tell me who you, _now_."

She confirmed that her name was indeed Raven, and introduced her smart-mouthed companion as "Beast Boy."

By this point, I'd gotten the impression that they'd known each other for many, many years by mortal reckoning. If his behavior was typical, it was a wonder she put up with him, unless he was…

"Your boyfriend?"

I was taken aback when they both emphatically denied any such thing, simultaneously.

Embarrassed for some reason I couldn't define, I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms to cover it up. I could think of nothing more to ask.

But neither could they think of anything to say. The silence grew longer and longer. The awkwardness and tension wouldn't go away.

Finally, out of sheer desperation, the female—I mean, Raven, spoke up.

"Bottom line is, we didn't come to kill you or any other of your wolf 'buddies.' We were trying to escape and we got separated from our friends."

When I pointed out the fact that their friends were most likely dead, Beast Boy shook his head. "They're tougher than you think."

Maybe they were, maybe they weren't. However, if it was true, that only made it more likely that they would be killed. Not less. "If your friends are as powerful as you say, the Council would not allow them to wander among the survivors."

I referred, of course, to the Nocturna council, the ruling body of the Vampire nation. I thought that was being perfectly clear, but evidently they didn't see it that way. "Who're they?" she asked. "And why would _they_ go to the trouble of picking out five people out of a couple billion?"

I sneered as I described the natures of those contemptible creatures. "A Vampire's insatiable lust for power is matched only by his" ('Or her,' I added silently) "pompous ego." Especially the one calling herself Isard, who'd murdered Fenrir by drinking his blood. Just thinking of that incident cause _my_ blood to boil, so much that I almost missed Raven's reply.

"Vampires? Are you saying a bunch of _vampires_ are the ones attacking our city?"

I shook my head at the display of typical mortal disbelief in what they did not understand. "Have no illusions, Titan. Your city is but one target among many. It is a coalition of several vampiric armies, rallied together by Raphael Asmodeus—"

"Sounds like a pretty bad dude," interrupted Beast Boy. My respect for him dropped yet another level, and I wasn't the only one. His companion's violet eyes narrowed dangerously as they tried to bore holes in his skull.

However, I continued as if I'd never been interrupted. "He has sent a number of assassins to kill me in the past two hundred years, and each time, I displayed their heads outside my dwelling." And it was true. No being short of the despicable Isard, or the Vampire Lord himself, Markus, could match me in a one-on-one duel.

Beast Boy appeared discomfited by my most recent statement, and the fangs I flashed as I spoke probably didn't help. He attempted to hide it with more sarcasm. "I'd hate to see what your Christmas tree looks like—OW!" he yelled, as I heard is companion kick his shin. She then turned back to me once more.

"What do we have to do to get out of here?" she questioned. That set me back. I hadn't thought that far ahead. I hadn't really been considering releasing them, for that matter. I thought furiously, but let none of it show on my face as I concentrated my full attention on her, reaching desperately for an answer. There _had_ to be something I could get out of all this!

Unnerved by my stare, they exchanged uneasy glances. "What?" they asked.

To stall for time, I said the first thing that popped into my head. "First of all, I'd like to know what exactly you two are. Neither of you smell like Vampires, but—"

The boy interrupted. "Wait, if we don't smell like vampires, why did you think they sent us?"

"You mean, you've never heard of familiars?" He shook his head. "They are traitors from your own race who have pledged themselves to the service of the more powerful vampires."

"Why would anyone do that?"

"Do you really need to ask that? You said you protected the city above, so you've undoubtedly had to fight criminals in the line of duty. Why would anyone want to be such a criminal?"

He had no answer to that.

"Now, let me finish the question," I ordered, enunciating every word. "As I was saying. You don't smell like Vampires nor Lycons, but neither is your scent completely human. So I repeat, what exactly are you?"

Beast Boy spoke right up, eager to comply in any way. "I happen to be a shape shifter. No, I'm not a werewolf, you're right about that. I can become any animal I choose!" I raised an eyebrow, a motion I understand indicates disbelief among humans. To demonstrate, he transformed into a small dog—which, incidentally, was green all over.

Raven sent him a glare, and hissed at him under her breath. "Shut up, you idiot! We don't know if we can trust him!"

Just to see how she'd react, I made an offhand comment. "You know, I can hear you perfectly well, no matter how softly you speak."

Her eyes went round, widened to the size of saucers, and she stammered. "I—I didn't mean, I—was merely pointing out—that is—um…"

I smiled internally at her reaction. I got the feeling she wasn't often caught off-guard like that. However, as entertaining as it was to watch her squirm and grasp for some way to ameliorate her apparent faux pas, I couldn't suppress a twinge of guilt. I shouldn't be enjoying something like this—as a rule, our race is not sadistic, and never was, something which sets us apart from our enemies.

Finally, the guilt began to overcome any sense of satisfaction, and I cut her off with a wave of my hand. "Enough. As a matter of fact, you have a point. You _don't_ know if you can trust me." If possible, she appeared even more taken aback at such an admission from me. "But the thing is, you don't really have a choice. I could have you killed right here, and there would be nothing you could do about it. I believe you humans have an expression that describes this situation. Now, what is it? Oh yes—I hold all the cards."

I had the guards close the door firmly, and to stand in front of it, barring any escape attempt. Beast Boy swallowed audibly, and Raven's face went one shade paler. "Now," I said, leaving them no room for doubt, "you will tell me _everything_ I want to know. That is not a request."

It was a long, long time before anyone left the room.


	3. Third Friend

**A/N:** Sorry, no founding Titans in this chapter. I will, however, cover what's happened to at least one other Titan in chapter four, and there will be a canon character in this post.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the character of Shandrey, from whose point of view this chapter is told, nor do I own Arthur Reagan. The first belongs to **Tsukikage1213**, while the second is the property of **ThSamurai**. I also do not own the cartoon known as Avatar: The Last Airbender, which is referred to toward the end of the chapter.

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Chapter Three: Third Friend

**THEN**

**Eight years ago…**

"_So, tell me again who this girl is, to merit such protection?" Elm asked, after quietly knocking out a guard from behind—the twelfth one we'd encountered so far. He dragged the man to a nearby closet and hurriedly stuffed his body inside._

"_And why did Gladio send four of us to kill her?" Lee added, confusion written in his azure eyes, an expression matched in Elm's mismatched set. The latter scratched his head, further disturbing his already disheveled, white-streaked bright red hair._

"_Who cares?" Moira asked, as we started up the staircase. "It'll still be fun. And if we can find her quickly, we might have time to play around a little first." A cruel smile formed on her lips, accompanied by the usual chill of her icy blue eyes._

_"No." I put my foot down. "No playing around. I've heard of this girl, and she is not to be toyed with. She's far too dangerous. We go in, take her out quickly and quietly, and we leave."_

_Moira put on a slight pout, but didn't argue. She couldn't—we needed to be silent once more, having reached the top of the stairs to find a lengthy hallway extending to either side of the landing. We had no way of knowing which doors had guards or servants behind them, and there were quite a few._

_We split up, Moira and myself veering off to the left, while Elm and Lee went to the right. Each person slowly crept up to a door, then as one, we each yanked our respective portal open. All four rooms were unoccupied, and we repeated the procedure. Again, there was no one, but this time, in my room, there was a little pile of ashes next to the bed._

_I almost turned away, but then it dawned on me. That was out of place. Everything else about the room indicated it was cleaned almost religiously, and there wasn't a fireplace, so where had it come from? I gestured quietly for the others to come take a look._

_It took a moment for the incongruity to sink in to the others, but once it did, Elm's face lost all color. "No. It can't be," he whispered. Slowly, he approached it, as he would a cobra or viper that was preparing to strike._

_His focus was on that pile of ashes, to the point where he saw nothing else, including the little closet on the wall to the left of the door. It nearly cost him his life._

_As he was passing in front of the closet, a thin, short blade stabbed out at him from between the slats. The only thing that saved him were his excellent reflexes, honed from almost a year of assignments like this, as he tried to jump out of the way. The blade didn't impale him as its owner intended, but it still stabbed through his upper arm, drawing blood as it withdrew._

_The only one not frozen by shock was Lee, who telekinetically threw open the closet doors to reveal the assailant. "All right, wh—" He cut off in mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. The assailant, a nearly ordinary-looking man except for the specks of white in his otherwise brown hair, also looked stunned, dropping his weapon to clatter on the wooden floor. The fingers of the right hand tightly gripped a hollow cane, going white from lack of circulation. The rest of us looked on, not sure what to make of this._

_Moira wave her hand in front of Lee's face, snapping him out of his daze. "Arthur? Arthur Reagan?"_

_Shaking his head, the man slowly bent to pick up the sword, carefully bending his right leg. He jammed the weapon back into the cane, which to all appearances was now an ordinary length of wood. "That's my name, don't wear it out."_

_With a critical expression, he looked each of us up and down. He sneered. "Well, Leonidas, I see you've picked up some friends in low places. REALLY low," he added when Moira summoned fire to her hands, "if she can use hellfire." She snarled at the implication in his voice, and would have attacked if Lee hadn't firmly held her back with his telekinesis._

_"Uh, Shandrey, a little help?" Elm called. He had his right hand clamped tightly over the wound near his left shoulder, which in turn was pressed firmly against his side._

_"Sorry." I moved to stand next to him, drawing water from the air in preparation for healing, mentally chiding myself for forgetting his injury._

**NOW**

**Time of takeover, year one, day one**

I have had more than one name in my lifetime, but the one I go by, the one everyone calls me, is Shandrey. Shandrey Yen-Mah. As for the name I was born with, that's behind me, part of a past I have no need to relive.

And why would I? I have friends now, friends who've stood by me for years, and would trust with my very life (which is more than I could say about any remaining family members). Of course, I would never tell them that. They don't need their egos swollen any more than they already are, thank you very much—especially the samurai called Lee and his best buddy, Elm.

That friendship was what had me out late at night, when I could have been sleeping in a warm, comfortable bed, accompanied by what had to be the rudest, most obnoxious jerk on the face of the planet.

"So, tell me again why we're up in the middle of the night? I think your boyfriend sent us on a wild goose chase."

I gritted my teeth, then took a deep breath in an attempt to avoid screaming at him. "Lee is NOT my boyfriend," I stated, saying it slowly and clearly. "And it wasn't just him. Elm sensed something wrong, too. You know that when both a telepath and an empath start feeling like something is wrong, then there is most definitely _something wrong_."

He merely yawned. "Well, that changes things," he said sarcastically. "Your boyfriend and his mate together can never be wrong." Still, he did actually take the time to survey his surroundings—an area of desert and canyons far from the fault lines underneath the bay. Yet every seismic sensor in the city indicated that this was the origin of several recent, good-sized tremors.

"You know, Reagan, one of these days you're going to make the wrong person mad with that attitude of yours."

"Ooo, I'm quaking in my boots. See this look on my face? It's absolute terror at the thought."

I closed my eyes and mentally counted to ten, which only helped a little. I imagined taking him out to the woods and shooting him, which helped a bit more.

I opened my eyes. "All right, see anything out of the ordinary?"

"Perhaps those footprints leading into the cave don't fit?" He pointed off to the left. In the side of a particularly reddish cliff, there was a narrow opening, barely wide enough for one person to pass through.

Once we were closer, he examined the prints in more detail. "Whoever this person is, he or she does not weigh much. These footprints aren't very deep, despite the fact that they were running."

I frowned. "How do you know they were running?"

"See how far apart they are? Also, if you look more closely, you'll see two things. One, a fine spray of sand has been kicked up in front of each step. And two, the impression of the heel is just a little deeper than the toe."

"Oh," I said, after a lengthy pause. "Well, what were they running from?"

He sighed. "Undoubtedly a rock slide. There's every indication that pile of boulders sheered off the canyon wall recently, within the last day or so. Probably caused by all the tremors."

He turned back to where the footprints led. "It's reasonable to assume that this person is still here, because there's no set of prints leading away. As for whether or not they are still alive, that I couldn't say…"

_**THEN** _

_Elm rotated his arm, stretching the shoulder muscle to make sure everything worked properly. While he was doing that, I turned to the samurai. "So…how did you two meet?" I indicated the newly introduced Arthur Reagan._

_For only the second time since I'd met him, Lee looked highly uncomfortable. He wasn't actually shifting his feet, but he was visibly restraining himself from doing something like that. A slightly reddish tinge appeared on his cheeks. Finally he answered in a barely audible whisper, "He saved my life."_

_Elm shot him a quick look that was difficult to read. "So? Why are you so embarrassed by that? Everyone in this room has done that before, including myself. And you've returned the favor for each of us."_

_Lee shook his head and took a deep breath. "In your question lies part of the answer. I've saved you as well. I've never had a chance to repay my debt to him. However, it's not just that…on my first mission alone for Gladio, I made a very elementary mistake, one you would expect only a beginner to make. I won't tell you what I did, but I will tell you that I wouldn't be standing here if Arthur hadn't been there too."_

_Moira broke into the conversation, causing everyone else to jump a little. "That's nice." Her tone implied she thought it was anything but. "However, may I remind you three that we are here for a reason? Friend or not," here she gave Reagan a murderous glare, "he's not here to help you or us. I think it's highly suspicious that he's here at the same time we are."_

_Lee sighed. "She is right Arthur, and you know it. Why are you here?"_

_The man's face twisted in a slightly bitter smile. "To kill a mockingbird."_

_And that cryptic answer is all he would give us._

**NOW**

I called into the cave. "Whoever's in there, it's all right! You can come out now!"

There was a slight echo, then silence for a few seconds. A little shuffling noise further back in the cave was all that could be heard.

Finally, a tentative female voice answered. "Please go away. I don't want to hurt anyone."

I tried to be as reassuring as possible. "Don't worry. I can take care of myself. Come on out."

"Well…ok." More shuffling, then the cave's occupant moved toward the entrance. I backed off to make room.

Whoever it was stopped just short of the light, where the general outline was visible, but no details. I couldn't see the face. "It's all right, you can come on out," I reassured her.

Hesitantly, she took one more step forward, and I heard Reagan draw a sharp breath. I didn't blame him. Long, blond hair, blue eyes, and an almost anorexic figure—this was the girl my friends and I had been sent to kill eight years ago.

_**THEN**_

_We heard light footsteps coming up the stairs, announcing the presence of our target. Evidently, our superiors were misinformed about her schedule—she should have been home an hour before. Quietly, we all took cover: Elm grabbed Lee on the shoulder and teleported to cover the other side of the stairs, Moira put her back against the wall bordering the hallway where the door would hide her from anyone who entered, I kneeled down behind the bed, and Reagan once again retreated to the closet._

_All of this was accomplished in the space of a heartbeat, and without so much as a whisper of sound. The pace of the footsteps did not change, indicating we still remained undetected. Carefully, we listened, waiting for the right moment…but when she reached the landing, she turned the other way, toward Elm and Lee._

_Moira carefully peeked out the door, just a moment before a loud crash echoed down the hallway. She rushed out the door, and I was right behind her. I could hear Reagan hobbling along behind us._

_We needn't have bothered. The girl was either unconscious or dead. The crash had been a door Lee had ripped off its hinges with his telekinesis, and he had apparently hit her over the head with it._

_I exchanged a glance with Lee, and he shook his head almost imperceptibly, telling me he hadn't been able to pick up any thoughts before he had ambushed her._

_I ground my teeth in frustration. Why did Gladio want her dead so badly? There HAD to be a reason!_

_But there was no way to find out now without making Moira suspicious. I glanced briefly at the girl lying prone on the floor. Was that a flicker of black in the otherwise blond hair? I blinked once, but it was gone._

_"Well, is she dead?" Moira asked. Elm knelt down and put his palm on her cheek, spreading out his fingers. Closing his eyes, he concentrated._

_"No. But she won't wake for a long time. If we set the mansion on fire, she won't have time to escape." He removed his hand and looked to Moira, who grinned._

_"My pleasure."_

**NOW**

The girl, now a woman, did not seem to recognize either of us.

"Wh-who are you? What do you want with me?"

"My name is Shannon Chan, and this is Arthur Reagan. We no idea you were here. We were sent out here to find out why there have been so many minor earthquakes."

The woman bit her lip, looking down at the ground. "That was me."

"Oh?" Reagan replied. "I find that hard to believe."

Hs shook her head emphatically. "It was me. I've been practicing. I don't want to hurt anyone else by losing control of my powers."

This was growing more interesting by the second, and I turned away to think for a minute. I wondered if she could possibly be an earthbender. Now that I thought about it, I recalled that the book my sister Moira had made me read had mentioned that there had once been benders for each of the elements. It had also had a brief note about a person called the Avatar, who could bend all four elements to his or her will, and that person was always reincarnated the moment they died, ensuring that each generation had one. There were strong hints that Elm might be this mystical figure. True, he didn't have some of the abilities it was mentioned Airbenders had, but then again, he had had to learn that element all on his own.

I shook myself out of those musings, however. They weren't helping me at all. I turned back to the woman. "You now know our names. It would only be polite if you were to introduce yourself to us."

She looked back up. "Very well. My name is Tara Markov. But the Titan called Beast Boy told me I am also called Terra, and I think he was right."


End file.
